


Linguistic Manoeuvres in the Dark

by oddtwist



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Age Difference, Body Language, F/M, First Kiss, Height Differences, Sexual Tension, Sleeping Together, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddtwist/pseuds/oddtwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why do you never sleep?"<br/>Another ludicrous question, but it was the best she could come up with to make him stay. The jumble of thoughts inside her head was impossible to translate into coherent, verbal messages. How <i>do<i> you go about telling an oblivious, self obsessed male specimen from outer space that you would like to spend the night with him - without being embarrassingly obvious?</i></i></p><p>  <i>Set after the Christmas Special.<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Linguistic Manoeuvres in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little snippet that turned out longer than I intended. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

“Doctor, do you love me?”

He was on the way out when that question suddenly rolled from Clara’s lips. In search for his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor had ransacked the bedroom with a general lack of respect for her privacy, taking no notice of her current state of undress. He never did.

Clara was snuggled up in bed while he’d been rummaging around in the computer-generated twilight. Technically this was _his_ bedroom, but Clara doubted if he’d ever spent more than half a minute inside. This new regeneration couldn’t be bothered with a room in his TARDIS that was solely meant for not being awake in. This Doctor never let his guard down. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to him that the room could be useful for other pleasant activities, of a kind that didn’t involve sleeping. But not even the presence of a woman between the sheets gave him a nudge in the right direction: he just gave her a slightly puzzled, obviously impatient look.

 “Is this a trick question?”

She could tell that his mind was already miles away, working on whatever problem he was trying to solve with his handy little tool. Sensing an unwelcome intervention, he regarded her suspiciously.

“No. I’m sorry. I know you do. Let me just rephrase that question. Why do you never sleep?”

Another ludicrous question, but it was the best she could come up with to make him stay. The jumble of thoughts inside her head was impossible to translate into coherent, verbal messages. How _do_ you go about telling an oblivious, self obsessed male specimen from outer space that you would like to spend the night with him - without being embarrassingly obvious? Clara was hopelessly struggling to find the right approach and despite the fact that she was emitting all sorts of unambiguous vibes, her beloved alien evidently didn’t possess the capacity to pick up on all the subtext on this particular subject.

“Time Lords don't need sleep the way humans do. I sleep, but I doubt that you would notice. You would probably be offended if you knew when I’m taking my naps.”

He was right. She had seen how he zoned out when other people were talking and yes, sometimes she was offended that he didn’t even register her words. But she’d learned to accept this in number Twelve: the man needed his catnaps and he took them during the verbal clutter around him.

“Would it be a terrible breach of the Time Lord Code of Conduct if you would actually take five and lie down with me for a minute?”

She tapped her fingertips on the empty space beside her - on the bed, where she had spent all of her nights alone since she eloped with the Doctor on Christmas Eve. She wondered why he had kept it when he did his refurnishing as Twelve.

“Would that make you happy?”

“Yes it would.”

Since they were back together, they had been travelling space and time at a dazzling pace. And as a result of the Doctor’s maddening travel-schedule, Clara was usually too exhausted to even consider the possibility of an intimate moment between them. But she’d decided that this evening would be different. It was clearly up to her to address the issue they had been dancing around for some time now. Tonight was the night to do something about that.

“If it makes you happy...” After a last glance at the door, the Doctor moved towards the bed and tucked away the screwdriver in the inside pocket of his coat.  “I know there is something on your mind. You’re not as happy as you were....before. You should be happy more often. Makes your face all round and shiny. Did you know that your eyes actually sparkle in the right light? You should be happy all the time.”

Did he just tell her that she was beautiful? Probably. That was going well then. They were heading in the right direction.

“This would make me very happy. In fact I think it would make us both happy if we gave it a try.”

As a teacher Clara had much experience with unwilling children and she had become an expert in easing them into doing something they were reluctant to do. Who would have thought that these skills would also come in handy when dealing with a centuries-old Time Lord?

“Meaning we would be doing this more often?”

“This?”

“This sleeping together?”

Trust the Doctor to call a spade a spade, but to actually hear him say those words brought a deep blush to Clara's cheeks.

“Yes well, that _is_ the general idea and right now, your sonic screwdriver and its pressing problem can wait a while longer.”

She was certain he would disagree but to her surprise he was prepared to humor her.

“Okay," he said. "we’ll give it a try then.”

He crashed onto the bed next to her and stretched out, tentatively testing its resilience, carefully avoiding an accidental touch - waiting. Waiting for her to fall asleep, so he could get on with his work.

“Why _do_ humans sleep together I wonder?” he asked himself. ”There’s usually one that snores and keeps the poor soul on the other side of the bed awake. It’s a sure way of decreasing your lifespan, I can tell you that.”

“Aren’t you going to take off your shoes?”

“Must I?”

“Yes please.”

He did as he was told and placed his shoes underneath the bed.

“And your coat. You wouldn’t be comfortable lying next to me in a coat.”

He stood and took it off, regarding her with a slightly worried frown.

“Anything else?”

When she looked up at him, she thought she saw a spark of... something in his eyes.

_O God, could it be that he's enjoying this?_

This was his impossible girl taking control and he was letting her. He knew exactly what was going on and allowed her free reign. She pretended not to notice, but the butterflies that flooded her nether regions did little to distract her from this new revelation about the Doctor.

_Anything else?_

_Oh, yes. I want it all, Doctor, but I won’t embarrass you with further demands. As of yet._

Shoes and coat out of the way, he sank into the pillows again and Clara settled beside him – wide awake, full of anticipation and suddenly extremely nervous. They’d made it this far, but what next?  If the Doctor were a normal boyfriend, then she would not have to worry. There were certain stages in the natural development between two people who fancied each other. There would be stolen looks, awkward touches and eventually a first kiss. There would be action and reaction from both partners, even if there was one who took the lead. But the Doctor was not a normal boyfriend and even control freaks liked to relinquish control now and then.

The Doctor took the act of sleeping together quite literally. He lay stock still beside her without uttering a sound. She barely heard him breathe and contrary to his usual habit, he refrained from any of the familiar noises that indicated that he was bored. The silence between them rapidly became awkward.

“Sooooo, “Clara said in an attempt to break the ice and pacify the growing frustration within her. “what do _you_ do when I’m asleep?”

That question triggered a flow of words from her bed partner, as if she’d hit the play button on the remote control.  He gave her a meticulous account of his pursuits while she was sleeping, which was boring enough to rapidly kill off the slightest shred of passion she might have left.  She'd just about abandoned all hope for a positive outcome of the evening when he ended his account with the words: “Sometimes I just sit here and watch you sleep.”

 His voice was low and soft beside her, thick with affection – it gave her the tickles. And the idea that he would actually sit in the chair opposite the bed and watch her sleep was endearing.

 “It‘s relaxing to watch you sleep and wait for you to wake up. “

A warm smile played on her lips when she turned to face him, yet he avoided her gaze: kept his eyes firmly fixed on his hands in his lap.

“That’s about the sweetest thing you ever- what’s that glow?”

The green glow on her nightie vanished as soon as she’d spoken.

“Sorry, I thought you had your eyes closed. I’m trying to monitor your body language. I put it in silent mode so it will not disturb your sleep. Shouldn’t you close your eyes when you want to go to sleep? “

“Put that thing away.”

“I’m only trying to read you a little more accurately. My night vision is not what it used to be.”

This was clearly an excuse for not wanting to admit that he didn’t dare look at her. Clara knew for a fact that there was nothing wrong with his enhanced vision: he simply avoided facing her and dealing with what he might find in her eyes.

“You do that a lot, do you?” she asked. “Invade my privacy by scanning me with your screwdriver?”

“Well, Clara, I do believe you have enough self knowledge to know that you are a very confusing specimen of the human race. I’m just trying to anticipate your feelings...  to avoid accidentally offending you. You keep punching me in the face for saying the wrong things.”

“Shut up, Doctor.”

“Have you any idea what’s going on inside you right now? You wouldn’t believe the amount of endorphins and pheromones that are racing through your system. It’s uncanny. How do you even function? If you keep this up, you will probably explode.”

“If you do not shut up and put away that sonic screwdriver I will poke you in the eye with it.”

“Okay. I’ll put it away. See? Putting it under the bed.”

“I can’t very well see in the dark, can I?”

“That is exactly the reason why I used it in the first place. How am I supposed to read your body language in this kind of light? It was hard enough to find my screwdriver.”

“Well, Doctor, let me tell you something about the human race, that you obviously missed in all your extensive research about us.” She paused for dramatic impact. “Some of the best conversations take place in the dark.”

“Is that what this is for...this sleeping together arrangement? So you humans can bore each other to death with the art of conversation and desperately doze off?”

“I wasn’t talking about verbal conversations. I was talking about body linguistics that do _not_ crave any light.”

And with that, she turned around and nestled herself against him rather forcefully. Her hand sneaked up to his chest where her fingers hooked into a button of his shirt. He tensed up. In fact his muscles clenched so hard under her touch that she started to wonder if something had seriously gone wrong with this new regeneration: that bones might have appeared where there should be muscles and soft, cuddly tissue.

“Doctor?”

“I’m listening.” he said, his voice tight with tension. “Still new at this body linguistic game you’re playing. I promise I’ll do my best to master this, since it is so important to you. I’ll just forget that your hand is touching me there, okay? Your index-finger is inside my shirt now, in case you hadn’t noticed. “

“I noticed.”

She suppressed a giggle when he shivered as she ran her fingers through the silky hairs underneath his shirt.

“Right.”

“Doctor, what are you afraid of?”

In the shimmering light she followed the contours of his face: the deep lines more pronounced than ever, big eyes looking back at her with a vulnerability in them, she had only seen once before. It brought her straight back to Christmas Eve.

“Clara, I am ...... not the man I used to be as you well know. You fell in love with a young man with a cool bowtie - dashing, funny, warm and cuddly.”

“I fell in love with a two thousand year old alien..." she countered. ".. who is funny, dashing, ...” she opened a button to allow her hand to probe on further underneath the shirt, his skin smooth and soft beneath her fingertips. “...warm.”

He began to relax a bit; his arm enveloped her and he pulled her into a comfortable soft hug.

“And you’re doing okay on the cuddly bit too.”

With her head resting on his chest, Clara marvelled at the exquisite double rhytm of his hearts. So soothing. The steady, low drumming in her ears gave her a sense of belonging - at last.

“But as far as human relations go, this is not really appropriate, is it?" the Doctor asked, "Apparently you are a young woman, and I have regenerated into an old... _older_ man. I’ve done my research. People like that don’t fall in love unless there is an astronomical amount of money involved as an incentive.”

“Ever heard of Tracey and Hepburn? Jo March and professor Bhear? Higgins and Eliza?”

“No. Are they friends of yours?”

“They are the odd couples you are worried about. The world is full of them. Age has nothing to do with falling in love, as long as there is affection - and a certain amount of sexual attraction.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

And he was off again.

“How can you be attracted to this body? Have you _looked_ in the mirror? It’s bony and wrinkled and frowned! And sometimes I think my eyes are popping out of their sockets. And the hands! Have you noticed my hands? They’re all over the place and I can’t seem to stop them from moving. Still don’t know left from right.”

“I like your hands and don’t you dare stop what you’re doing right now.”

Only now he realised that his left hand was comfortably lodged in the hollow between her bottom and her spinal column - his thumb had been stroking the small of her back all the time.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like it when you touch me. I've missed it.”

Oh, how she'd missed it!

Her fingers made their way down over his belly in a circular, playful motion and he was just in time to grab her hand before she came dangerously close to the blatantly obvious evidence that her touchy-feely stuff was having the desired effect.

“Can we just...take it slow?!” He had a firm grip on her now and totally tensed up again. “It’s not that I don’t want you to do....all this... you obviously planned meticulously before you tricked me into lying down with you, but you should give me some time. I’m still getting used to this regeneration and haven’t had time yet to.... check if it all was in working order.”

“You mean....?”

“Well.... Time Lords have different needs than humans. We do not waste time on such trivialities.”

She looked up at him and realised she adored him even more. Being with him now was like guiding him trough his first time. The thought of that went straight to her core being and her breath caught in her throat.

Unfortunately the magic did not last. The Doctor mistook her look of love for the punitive glance she would give an obstinate student for telling lies. Under the circumstances he thought it best to be as honest as he possibly could with Clara. She would value honesty in their relationship. They had been telling each other too many lies in the past.

“There was the one time when Missy gave me the full 3W welcome package, when we were under the impression that she was a robot. Which was extremely disconcerting I can tell you that, because robots don’t usually have that effect on me. But other than that...." 

He finally noticed the change in her and stopped blabbering. She made him nervous - especially when she was planning another one of her intimacy-attacks. 

“I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“ _Definitely not_.” The image lingered in her mind for a second before another, more important and rather horrible thought occured to her. “You Gallifreyans do actually _practice_ such trivialities, right?”

For a single moment she feared that abstinence might be common practice amongst this alien race. Another twist of fate to taunt the already complicated life of Clara Oswald, the impossible girl who had fallen for an impossible man.

“Of course,” the Doctor said. “with the right partner anything is possible” He pulled her closer and looked into her eyes, their faces only inches apart. “I think I can safely say that I have found the right partner.”

“Now all we have to do is get you in the mood.”

“Something you already seem to have accomplished without me, according to my sonic screwdriver. How _do_ you _do_ that?”

She ran her fingers through his fluffy hair and gave him a loving smile.

“All it takes is being around you.”

“Astounding! You’ve been like this ever since Christmas Eve? You must be exhausted!”

Bolting upright, Clara grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him into the mattress, straddling him beneath her.

“Would you..?! Stop saying the wrong things!”

Reasoning with the Doctor was always a delicate matter when his brain was still fully engaged and it inevitably reached a point when attacking him was the only option left. Surprise tactics seemed to work better than reasoning.

“Focus on _your_ needs, _your_ feelings and _my_ body language, which is telling you in very clear words to shut up and let your body do the talking.”

“I'll try." he promised. "Sorry. I'll try and - I'll shut up. Won't say another word. It's just that ...aren't we making a big mistake here? I mean apart from the obvious obstacles, do you think we could make this work?

“ _What_ obvious obstacles?”

“Well, there’s the difference in height for a start. How is that going to work? You’d need to carry around a footstool every time you feel the urge to .. be affectionate.”

“Or you could bend down and meet me halfway. Go down on your knees before me?”

“Oh. Ooooh, you would like that, now wouldn’t you Clara Oswald?”

His voice had dropped several octaves and Clara melted away at the sound of long rolling Scottish 'oh'. The Doctor was right about her condition: if she didn't do something about that right now, she would probably explode. She locked eyes with him and slowly made her way down towards his lips.

Their first kiss was tentative, gentle - their hands carefully probing, becoming bolder and more urgent with every touch. They lost themselves in the desire to finally show each other how they really felt: in every touch, every kiss, every sigh and moan and tremble. Exploring without inhibitions, forgetting time and space and the world around them - but for the persistent noise nearby, increasing in volume, extremely annoying.

“We’re not crashing into anything are we?” Clara managed between breaths, while her nimble fingers quickly opened the buttons of his shirt.

“It's the sonic." the Doctor said after a moment, sounding dazed." No longer in silent mode. Still recording body language."

 _And probably close to a system overload right now_. 

He entangled himself from Clara's grip and reached down underneath the bed.

"Don't turn it off." Clara said with an exciting glint in her eyes. "Just put it in silent mode."

"Yes ma'am."

 


End file.
